


Breath Of Life

by StealthLesbian



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, FNaF book universe, Ghostbusters AU, Holtz gets a niece, Not much changes, Slow Burn Holtzbert, and killer animatronics, fnaf - Freeform, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StealthLesbian/pseuds/StealthLesbian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 years ago, tragedy struck Holtzmann's home town in the form of the abduction and likely murder of 5 children. It's something that Holtz does her best to bury. Because not only did rob her of her family she also might have been partly responsible for it. At least that's what the little voice in the back of her head tells her around this time of year. She might be a city saving Ghostbuster and a brilliant mad genius, but there are some ghosts even she can't handle and some things just don't stay in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghosts: Metaphorical

**Author's Note:**

> Could also be titled and summarized by 'I stuck the Ghostbusters into the middle of the FNaF book.' It goes along the general gist of the book, (animatronics evil, purple guy in there somewhere, dead kids) but tons of things do change, I've got this all plotted out, but am struggling to tag it with warnings. Tags and rating will be updated as the work goes on. Hopefully I manage to write it all. Feedback, comments and Kudo's are awesome and so are you guy's. This has not been Beta'd as I don't have a beta reader. All mistakes are mine.

Holtzmann stumbled, looking around it didn't take her all that long to realize that something was definitely wrong. She was back in the pizzeria, the smell of stale cheese, burnt pizza and electricity in the air. Except this was...It was different, not the place she had spent her teenage years working on machines and seducing girls in the back room. This place was worn down, decrepit and leaking. It was old, the brick work crumbling and the windows were all blocked up. Through the darkness, she heard an incredibly familiar mechanical grind, several of them in fact. Along with a sort of stomping shuffle and...Wheezing? There was this almost coughing, rattling sort of wheeze and what was worse she couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. A set of eye's lit up the blackened gloom, then another and another, until she felt like she was staring into flood lights. Luckily fear in the face of anything that went bump in the night oogie boogie style, just wasn't Holtzy's shtick. However as Holtz reached down, her breathing stopped and her heart started hammering in her chest as the realization dawned that the comforting weight of her proton pack just wasn't there. Wynonna and Naomi, her pistols were strangely absent from her hip hostlers. She realized then just as slowly that she wasn't even wearing her jumpsuit. Instead looking down, her chest was clad in a gray button down work shirt, with a name tag in the corner and suddenly...She was 19 again, barely a 100 pounds sopping wet and completely utterly defenseless. There was a wretched, skipping, tearing, high pitched mechanical scream as one of the shorter sets of eye's leaped for her.

Jillian Holtzmann woke up screaming, well not so much screaming as letting out a startling yelp of abject terror. She propelled herself up off the stool she had been sitting on when she'd slumped over for a mildly involuntary snooze. Exhaustion did that to a person, still she hit her feet and bounced backwards slightly, rocking in groggy surprise. It took another moment before there was a pair of arms around her, she made a noise and a went throw an elbow up. But stopped short because the concerned face of Erin Gilbert popped over her shoulder.

“You alright Holtz?” Erin looked at her, with that cute lip biting frown plastered on. Holtz's brain spun as she realized just how close the redhead's lips were, mouth so close she could feel the woman's breath on her cheek. Her own breath hitched and she swallowed thickly, before nodding. “Yeah, fine, Gilbert. Just fine and dandy.”

“I've never seen you dance yourself out of a dead sleep before. I mean, you dance a lot, but usually not after waking before pop tarts.” Erin's brows were furrowed and she gave that nervous little laugh. The one she had when she knew she was prying, but trying to be funny about it. 

“Besides.” She added quickly, arms still for whatever reason around Holtz's waist. Even though Holtzmann was standing very steady at this point. Almost ram rod straight, as straight as Holtzmann would ever get. Apparently noticing this, Erin pulled herself away, staring at her shoes suddenly, running a hand through her own hair nervously. “According to George Carlin, no one is ever just fine and dandy.”

Secretly the blond engineer would give anything stay in Erin's arms. It was driving up her pulse rate and her stomach was doing flips, but she felt...Safe. The rest of the terror her dream had caused melted away. She took a couple of deep breaths and bounced from foot to foot, shaking her heads. Yeah, she was fine. Hadn't had those particular nightmare's in years. But it didn't mean anything. She went back to her work table, casting a glance over her shoulder. Erin was still hovering, poking her shoe into the ground. God why did that woman have to so, kind and caring. Holtz loved it, but she also hated it. Erin Gilbert was not the first straight woman that Jillian Holtzmann had ever had a crush on. She was just the first one that seemed to be a prominent fixture in her life. She was just the first one that the stubborn little spitfire of a woman couldn't will the feelings for away. It wasn't as if she wasn't trying. It was at this point though that flirting was like a second nature to her and flirting with Erin was...A weird mixture of slowly losing control of her feelings and pure sport. Who could resist poking at that ultra composed facade? Not Holtzmann. She just had to keep from going too far and risking Erin realizing she wasn't just being little radioactive weirdo Holtzmann, making her jokes. 

“I wouldn't have pegged you for a Carlin fan.” She intoned finally, when it become clear that the physicist wasn't going to wander away on her own. Erin perked up, that blush still coating her skin in rose. Holtz bit her lip, the woman was definitely going to be the death of her.

“I didn't think there was anyone who wasn't a Carlin fan.” Erin shot back, smiling and chuckling. Holtz threw a fist in the air. 

“Fuck yeah.” She gave a nod of her head, splaying wild blond curls everywhere.

Erin inched closer, reaching out and tucking some of Jillian's hair back under the band of her goggles. “Stop deflecting, I've never seen you sleep. But I can't imagine you're one for nightmares.”

Holtz wiggled her eye brows, a wide manic grin splitting her face. “Wanna see? Not me sleep, but like my bed and stuff? I can show you where I would sleep..If we weren't going to be busy.”

Erin flushed bright red again and flustered immediately, bringing a hand up to scrub at her face. 

“Harhar, sex joke? Low hanging fruit, Holtzie. I'm unimpressed. Now, wanna talk about that whole scream hoping you were doing?” The redhead pushed out the words in a flustered rush of breaths, waving a hand around.Erin had been getting a touch bolder lately, more resilient in the face of her teasing and general hijinkery. Especially if she suspected that Holtz was simply avoiding telling her something.

Holtz's grin just got bigger, dimples showing in full effect and she could have sworn that the redhead's eye's briefly lingered on her cheeks. Wishful thinking, surely. 

“Maybe, I just desperately needed to have Erin Gilbert's arms around me.” She leaned close to the woman, popping a stick of gum in her mouth, she couldn't imagine that four hour exhaustion nap nightmare breath was anything to pleasant. Besides, who didn't love gum, she popped a bubble for emphasis as Erin squeaked. 

“I...I...Fine see you at breakfast!” The redhead waved an arm around, scrubbed her face again and finally with a grunt started to trail out of Holtzmann's lab. Patty passed her in door way.

“Mail call!” The big woman called out, bustling in, in her usual vivacious manner. “Got this for ya, Holtzie, looks official and important baby.”

“Probably those new patents or licenses or whatever for the gear.” The blond held out a hand, taking the manila envelope from her friend. Patty nodded at her, it had been about a year and a half, since they'd saved New York from Rowan's poorly thought out rampage. They'd been keeping busy with a steady stream of calls from across the country and Holtz had found that suddenly the Government was both very interested and uninterested in her having the proper documentation for her inventions. Usually she simply alerted them that she'd finished a prototype and they sent along a packet full of disclaimers and official documentation, that may or may not have actually pertained at all to the thing she built. Still she looked it over anyway and then gave it Abby to file away in a large ringed binder that they kept handy. Just in case any kind city or agency types came around asking. Patty bustled out on her own after delivering the letter.

She turned and flipped on her stereo, ready to sign these things, shuffle them off to her other, other best friend and start the work day all over again. Holtz froze as she turned the envelope over and saw the post mark from Hurricane Utah. She flopped down heavily onto the stool, turning the letter reverently over in her hands. This was a bad sign, she bit her lip and shook her head. Nope. Not going to open it. She slid it across the table and went back to soldering a mass of wiring and circuit boards that comprised her latest idea.

Two burnt fingers and three repeats of 'Heart Breaker' later, Holtz was gently banging her head against the counter top. Stopping every so often to grunt and glare at the offending piece of mail. It's ridiculous that Holtzmann was afraid of a letter, she knows this. She's a badass, she designs and builds weapons, she's saved New York and possibly the world. She fights ghosts for a living and one little piece of junk mail has her shaking in her waders? No. Way. She probably should open it anyway, because well, it might be important. Like adult stuff she should take care of. She rumbled, trying to think. No, the house was completely paid for and she has cleaners on auto-scheduled once every three months to maintain the place. She simply assumed that the city had repossessed and sold the 'family restaurant'. So who back in Hurricane could possibly want anything from her? No reason to go running from metaphorical ghosts, if she didn't run from the real ones right?

She reached out and snagged the envelope, growling at it as if she could frighten it into rethinking its stance on it's own existence. She sat up and after rummaging through her many pockets pulled out one of the various pocket knifes she carried. It took a moment to turn the letter and slice it open, before dumping its contents on the table. She picked it up and flipped it open, slowly reading. 

 

_Dear Dr. J Holtzmann_

_You are cordially invited to the dedication ceremony for the Michael G Brooks memorial scholar ship program, on the 10th anniversary of his death. You have been asked to attend by Jack and Marsha Brooks, who tentatively hope you might be able to speak at the ceremony. A hotel room on the allotted dates has already been reserved in your name, free of charge. Please RVSP within twenty fours hours of receiving this letter. Please cancel within twenty four hours of the trip dates, if you do not wish to attend._

It went on like that, polite, professional and detached. Hotz's eye's unfocused and she stopped reading. She got the gist, she didn't need any more details than that...Talk? At the event? Had they confused her with Charlotte? No, it was, she thought cynically, probably because she was a big time hero type now. Michael's parents were a career politician and a doctor. From what she remembered, both probably loaded and it would be nothing to throw a little money at a hotel room and some schmaltzy dinner. Gather up all Micheal's old friends, drag the whole incident out into the light. Just the proper publicity stunt to finance a reelection. What a perfect time for the small town to forgive the Big City's Big Hero for her fucked up past, right? Sure, you and your brother created some fucked up things that killed children. But no big deal. Or were they going to turn the whole thing into a witch hunt maybe? Look, see, your hero is a killer. Who's probably only interested in ghost because she's guilty.

Holtz snorted and shook her head. She knew she was being a paranoid jackass, even in her own mind, she was being a selfish paranoid jackass. It was an event, honoring this kid. Not some big excuse to burn her at the stake again. Regardless, fuck that noise. She wasn't really Micheal's friend, she'd been 19 at the time. He was 7, great friends with her niece and a bunch of other hyper snot noses. She hadn't been so much a friend, as she was a baby sitter, an impromptu guardian to the motley crew. As fond of them all as she had been. It had been way to many years and it would be stupid for her to show up.

She flicked the letter aside, but couldn't stop her mind before it trailed to Charlotte. If she had gotten a letter then surely her niece had to have as well. The last she'd seen the kid was, at her father's funeral. All tear stained and scared and it made Jillian's heart ache to just think of it. She wished, that she had been able to take care of her. But she had been a traumatized 19 year old, getting ready to graduate her first leg of college and transfer to MIT. She had no job, no home and no qualifications for looking after a traumatized 7 year old. 

So, she'd ran, because it was simple and easy. It was easy to leave Char with her maternal grandmother. Who wanted absolutely nothing to do with the 'only remaining Holtzmann' anymore. (Discounting her granddaughter's last name of course. That was easy to bury.) Holtz hadn't protested, she always figured it would have been better for her niece. To have a stable guardian, to have a stable home. It was, ultimately, she decided chewing on her cheek. There was no undoing it now, it was all in the past. She sighed as her eye's found the pair of goggles nailed to the wall of her lab. They had rounded red lenses and round brass trimming, with a thick brown leather strap. She shook her head, thinking of her brother, the goggles perched a top his forehead over bushy blond hair. 

“I'm not going. Don't give me that look, it's over for me. The only thing I'd do is make it worse for everyone else.” Holtz told the empty lab firmly, every one else deserved to heal. Everyone else needed to finally put this behind them, she'd be just fine on her own. She would in fact be so much better off if it was solely her burden to bare. The eccentric engineer grit her teeth, first the dreams and now this? What was the radiation in the lab giving her clairvoyance? As awesome as that would be, she figured it was just that time of year. The letter came because it was that time of year and the dreams started because no matter how far she shoved it down, that time of year brought it back.

Her reverie was so deep that it took a couple of moments for her to realize that there was something buzzing in her olive drab coveralls. For the second time that day she jumped to her feet with an alarmed yelp. Afraid that she had left one of her little toys, of the highly unstable nuclear or the lady pleasing nature in one of her many pockets. She fished around frantically, letting out a laugh of relief that it was just her phone and that no one was around to see that. She had a reputation as a smooth talking rapscallion to maintain after all. It wouldn't do to seem as if she was afraid of her own trousers. 

She poked the screen a couple of times, until it lit up and showed that an unknown number was calling, or at least it wasn't in her phone's contacts. What the hell, she could do with a good round of telemarketer rodeo to cheer her up. She brought the screen up to her ear.

“'Ello, you've reached the phone of Doctor J Holtzmann, I can't however come to the phone at present because I'm being carted off by a class V full torso floating vapor right now. Please feel free to hawk your life insurance policy at the dial tone, doubt I'll be needing it.”

There was a beat, and she could hear breathing on the other end of the line.

“What if I was selling After death insurance?” Came a young, smooth female voice, with just a hint of a sardonic dry lilt. 

“I'd have to sue you for concept infringement. Because that's sorta my bag baby.” Oh, she had no clue who this was, but she liked them already. Someone who could so smoothly deflect her insanity with sarcasm deserved at least a little bit of her time. 

“You'd have to invent concept infringement first I think.” The voice answered, not skipping a beat this time. 

Color Holtz intrigued and stumped, which was rare. “Alright, you got me. What's your pitch?” 

“I'm not actually a Telemarketer. My names Charlie Holtzmann and I'm not sure if you...” Jillian wasn't sure if the voice had trailed off, or if there was a reason she was suddenly staring at the ceiling of her Mad Science Den. But her brain just kind of abruptly ground to a halt and didn't manage start rolling again until the voice continued.

“Are you...Ahh? Is everything ok? I heard a thunk.” Holtzie jumped back up, wincing at the sudden dizzy feeling. 

“No! Yes!..Not...I...... _Ofcourse_ I remember you, Sparky!” The pet name came as naturally to her as the years between them left her mind. Oh god, she sounded like Erin, all fluster and barely held in panic. Granted Erin was one of the best people she knew....Maybe it wasn't so bad to sound like that...No go away now useless crush, thank you good day. I said Good Day! She pried her brain away from it's Erin fixation and listened to the phone, smashing the thing into her ear with excitement. 

“It's uhh...I go by Charlie now.” Holtz was pretty sure one or many of the ghosts had just escaped containment. It was the only explanation for the sudden icy and painful stab she felt lancing through her chest and wrapping around her heart. She looked down, half expecting to see a glowy ethereal hand sticking out of her chest, holding one of her most vital organs. No such luck.

“Oh. Ok. Sorry, Charlie.” She winced, that sounded sooo bad. The last thing she needed was this kid thinking she was being mocked by someone who hadn't even bothered to drop her a letter in years. So before that happened she continued.

“What my ADHD ass means to say, is it's good to hear from you Charlie.” She could have gone out on a limb and just brought up the whole letter thing, the whole trip proposal. That absolutely had to be what her niece was calling about. Granted she was still firmly in the this is definitely not happening camp about the whole thing. Ok, so it actually was really happening, to other people and those people would be just fine without her. So would Charlie in fact and a part of her wanted to say that to. But instead she held her breath, scrunched her eyes shut and tried not to vibrate in place with all her roiling emotions.

“...Right...” 

Ouch. Swiftly reminding herself that she did deserve every bit of whatever this was, didn't really take the sting away. 

“I'm calling because..” Charlie continued on the other end of the line as Holtz twirled in a slow circle. Nerves wanting her to stay rooted to the spot, while sudden trembling maniacal energy demanded she go flinging herself down the stairs at top speed, probably screaming and most likely throwing the phone in the opposite direction of anything vaguely herself shaped.  
“See, errr...Well the anniversary of the th-” Charlie started to say the 'the thing' and seemed to be having a moment with herself. “Of Mikey's death.”

Jillian sucked her teeth, pulling in a breath. She felt an irrational anger punch her hard in the stomach. He was still 'Mikey.' Of course he's still Mikey, you idiot. Her brain helpfully supplied. He died, he didn't go running off howling into the night full tilt boogie at some very bad life choices. You. Did. Her brain finished ever on her side. It was right though, she wouldn't deny the bitter little voice that.

“I know. I-.” She stopped, wanting to clamp down, to deny the letter had reached it's destination. Be the adult Jillian, her little voice hissed. She called you, she's been brave enough and damn well you should be ashamed of yourself. Point. Taken. Little voice, Holtz grumbled in return. “I got the letter, you know? The about the dedication ceremony, and the scholarship fund.”

“Oh!” Charlie sounded surprised, probably for the same reason Holtz was. Wondering why she had ever been invited in the first place.

“I didn't think...I guess, I just wanted to make sure you knew about it.” Her niece finished lamely and despite the fact that no one could see her. Holtz nodded. 

“I know about it, yeah. Thanks, though.” That was just as lame.

“Cool.” There was a small sound, halfway between a strangled a sigh and a grunt, before her Sparky continued. “Look. I won't ask you to go-”

Jillian cut off the 'but would it kill you if you did.' She knew was coming, not by saying what she desperately wanted to, that yes indeed it really would very much probably kill her. But instead, by surprising everyone, in the room and not, by saying. “I'll go! I'm going!....What I meant to say was, I'm going. Are you going? Because I'dliketoseeyouthere...” 

Was that last part even words? She didn't know, she didn't trust anything her brain had to report on the circumstances right now.

“Yeah, I'm going.” Charlie said so quiet that Holtz for a moment swore her mind was lying to her.

“Great!” She squeaked out. “So, I'll see you there?”

There was a terse grunt, an exhale and then. “Guess so, I'm meeting the others at Sully's Diner on Friday, it's still standing apparently. I guess tragedy isn't as convenient as some people believe.”

Holtz let out a genuine whoop of laughter. There was the whip smart young woman who'd responded to her taunts when the conversation began. Charlie chuckled as Holtz again bobbed her head.

“Sully's, great. Sounds good. See you there.”

“Sounds like a plan. Goodbye Doctor Holtzmann.” The sudden ridged tone that spun the words into her ears made Holtz flinch. She wondered briefly, if she could find another ghost that was very willing to drop her out a four story window some time between now and the ceremony. 

That had to have been the most unHoltzmann moment of Holtzmann's life and it made her grind her teeth again and smack herself open palmed on the forehead. This was going to be a long day indeed, given that she now had to ask for days off and come up with some kind of excuse as to why. Especially after her weird morning go round with Erin. Might as well get the start of the rest of this day with. She thought, skipping down the stairs.


	2. Who names a town Hurricane?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holtz arrives in Utah, after some not so artful question dodging. The other ghostbusters debate snooping on their dear friend. If only for her own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waffled a lot as to how to get Holtz to Utah and eventually decided with the help of a friend to do what I did. I glossed over some stuff, for the sake of moving things along. Next chapter will be Charlie's introduction. Thank you all for your kudo's!

As was, she was late for breakfast by now even though she had been intending on putting the finishing touches on her ghost lure before going down. It wasn't like they all lived at the firehouse, Holtz practically did Erin and Abby were frequent stay over's to. So they did have spare beds and a bathroom on the third floor, along with their make-shift living room and kitchen. Despite not actually living there, somewhere over the past year and a half since the world nearly ended on their watch they all decided that at least ought to have breakfast together. Like a proper family, so it became a sort of tradition.

Holtz bounced into the little kitchen, covering her sour mood with a jaunty whistle. “Oh cool, the coffee's done.” She grabbed her mug from the shelf. It was a bit chipped and was from the musical wicked, Patty often retrieved and washed it for her, or should have lost it ages ago from setting it down somewhere and forgetting about it.

“Yup.” Erin perked up from her spot at the table. “Kevin made it!”

The brunette was grinning, toying with a page out of her book. Holtzy snorted, shaking her head. It was way to early for today to be happening. “Did he test it?”

She asked cautiously, Kevin backwash coffee was just not in her bag. Though Erin would probably be delighted, the blond clamped down on that thought and the sudden jealousy swimming through her. Nope. She did not have time for this.

“I did not, boss.” Kevin called, holding up his hand with a big grin on his dumb puppy face. Holtzmann rolled her eyes, but cracked on a big smile anyway, fishing through her pockets. She pulled out one of those tubes of the mini-M&M's and tossed them over the Kevin. 

“That's great, Kevo!” Their sweet if stupid secretary caught the candy and set about dumping the entire tube in his mouth. 

Months ago, she had discovered that much like an actual puppy Kevin could indeed be trained to carry out small and simple tasks. So long as the proper reinforcements were offered and praise given. Holtz would have said she didn't know what came over her, but she knew exactly why she volunteered to help train the boy. Because at the very least, if she was working with Kevin, then Erin would be staring in her general direction. So she'd managed to get him to be able to do several of his daily tasks the correct way. Coffee was one, they were still having trouble with the phone and she had a while ago abandoned that to Patty's best efforts. 

Thankfully Patty had decided she shouldn't have the suffer through Kevin sitting alone. She filled her coffee cup and poured some french vanilla creamer into it. She put some poptarts into the toaster and leaned against the counter. “Umm, I'mma be needing a couple days off....Whoever I gotta report that to. You know officially.”

The other three women turned to eye her over all with different looks. Abby was curious, Patty was mildly stunned and Erin's face curiosity and something Holtz couldn't quiet read. Abby spoke first, clearing her throat.

“Ok, Holtzy. No big deal. How much time you need?”

Holtz shrugged after a second or two of thought. The event was like a two day thing. The day of the actual ceremony that included some kind of fancy lunch and then a fancy charity dinner on the day of. But apparently Charlie was staying four days, and she wanted some time to spend with her niece, if all went well and she wanted a day to get there. If everything went to plan she could probably leave the day after the dinner, in the morning. The engineer clicked her tongue and made a few mouth noises as she thought.

“Four, maybe...Six days? Tops. Starting tomorrow.” She finally decided with a wave of her hand, bringing the coffee back up to lips. Her eye's kept unwilling trailing back Erin, trying to read those forest colored eye's and then darting away because Holtz did not want to stare. It was just every time she was in the same room as the physicist she felt like someone threw a wrench into her cerebral cortex. It was hard to think about anything but her, and she was very touchy about the slightest hint of disapproval from the brunette.

Abby nodded, her lips pursed. “Right, and just for official record, where would be going during this time off?”

“Utah.” Holtz replied after another moment, figuring them knowing the general area wasn't going to be a big deal. She finally pulled herself away from tracing the lines of Erin's shoulders to look at Abby with her best no really nonchalant face.

“Utah?” Erin chimed in, skeptically.

“Utah.” Holtz nodded.

“What's in Utah?” Abby got there with the question they were all thinking first.

Holtzmann bit her lip, before bringing the coffee cup up to drink from again. “I donno, flat land, sheep, cattle farms maybe? People definitely, it's a pretty populated state sooo, people for sure. Sports teams, I'm betting.-”

“Holtzy, you're ramblin girl.” Patty cut in, turning to face her. Holtzmann just made a noise in her throat and continued to sip her coffee.

“Let me put this another way, Holtzmann. What's in Utah that you care about?” Abby crossed her arms over her chest. Holtz did not like this, she really did not want to talk about this, not right now. Not ever preferably but certainly not more than what was required for this trip. But she couldn't stop her mouth, her natural sarcastic nature was in overdrive because her off mood and the low hanging fruit of a comment was right there and it wasn't even a dishonest answer.

“Not much.” No! Come back little comment, come back. She snorted, grabbing her poptarts as they popped up. Not even flinching at how hot they were, the slight burn against her fingers was real and grounding as she decided maybe she could explain a little bit. 

“Look, ladies...My lovely, lovely ladies. I got a family thing I gotta go deal with, ok? It's only for a couple of day's and I'm pretty sure that my equipment is neither going to give out, nor will there be another apocalypse level event while I'm gone. I believe in you.” She put her hands on her hips, poptart hanging out of her mouth, doing her best to look all heroic. 

“Yoo an hanble ip.” She mumbled around the poptart, before catching it as it fell and jamming it back in her mouth. She picked up her coffee mug and dunked her bitten poptart in, Mmming at the taste. It was probably just wishful thinking, but she could swear Erin's cheek were tinted pink after the my lovely ladies comment.

Erin had put down her book and was eyeing her critically. “I didn't know you had any family.”

The brunette blushed and ducked her head. “You must have though, seriously, because you were born and all....I just. You never talk about them.”

“No Erin. I was hatched from an egg in a Silurian colony deep under ground and sent to the surface as a super intelligent scout for the coming invasion. You've discovered my secret and now I have to kill you....Later though, after breakfast or maybe not. Gonna be super busy today.” Holtz deadpanned, watching as Erin played with her own hair, chuckling nervously. Abby had gone silent and was looking thoughtful. Jillian grabbed her uneaten poptart and gave a quick bow, heading for the fireman's pole.

“How about you just whip yourself vigorously and swear yourself to secrecy. I'll come check your progress later.” She called, grabbing the pole and sliding down. Erin blanched, watching Holtzmann go, the woman had both hands full, her thighs, toned under those baggy pants were doing all work holding her upright as she slipped out of sight. 

She was just totally going to completely ignore the thrill that had gone up her spine when Holtzmann had said the word whip, because that was a repulsive idea...Right? Right?....Erin Gilbert sighed. She had long ago gotten over the Kevin thing, it had only lasted a month or so after they had become city contractors. That however had replaced, by something that surprised her. Her crush on Holtzmann had snuck up her, covered her eye's and yelled in her ears, much like the woman herself. It clouded her thoughts and caused a massive jumble of feeling in the pit of her stomach. Especially after Holtz had started helping Kevin out, granted that allowed her to hide it better. She could stare at Holtz for an hour or so, while the mad scientist was training Kevin and pretend to only be fawning over their resident eye candy beef cake. 

Now Holtz was going off on some trip and being more cagey than usual about the reasons. The good news was, maybe she'd have time and seperation to work this dumb crush out of her brain. The bad news was she'd miss Jillian terribly. But she did need to get over it, it wasn't as Erin doubted her sexuality. She'd known she was bisexual since college, but Jillian Holtzmann could have any woman she wanted. She was the only ghostbuster with honest to god groupie's and little girls that wrote her fan mail. There was no way she'd ever want plan, boring, old Erin Gilbert. 

Abby made a noise behind her and Erin startled a little, looking over her shoulder. Abby was still watching the fire pole and Erin realized that she must not have been lost in her thoughts for as long as it felt.

“If I remember correctly, she actually is from Utah.” Abby mumbled after a minute. Erin turned toward her, eager to know any little detail about their enigmatic engineer. 

“Really? I wouldn't have called that.” Erin leaned her head on her hand, doing her best to hide her sudden intense interest.  
Abby shrugged. “I know, the egg hatching story seems a lot more buy able. It's true though, as far as I know. She doesn't talk about it, won't talk about. Other than she lived with her brother, because her parents were religious crazies. Her words not mine.”

“You know, she got a letter this morning, post marked from Hurricane Utah.” Patty chimed in, now leaning against the wall of the smell space. Erin looked at her and so did Patty after a moment.

Patty held up her hands. “Don't ask me, I just delivered it. I don't go rummaging through people's mail. That shit's illegal.”

Abby and Erin looked at each other again and Patty suddenly felt like she was in a sitcom. She did however admit that she liked the excitement of it. The big woman was a natural gossip and any chance to find anything more about their resident tiny energetic mental case was something she couldn't pass up on. 

“Who names a town Hurricane?” Abby said incredulously. “That's like, some brash ass levels of tempting fate there. That'd be like Georgia renaming Lafayette, Flooding.”

Patty and Erin stared at her, until Abby rubbed the back of her neck and huffed, mumbling something about not tempting deities like that. Patty continued with her idea after Abby quieted down.

“I bet, what with her running off so suddenly, that if we took a stroll down stairs and looked up Hurricane Utah. We might find out that something is taking place down there this week.” The historian of the ghostbusters smirked. 

Erin shook her head, and Abby frowned. Despite the fact that they both wanted to know, that would be spying and they both knew Holtzmann was unlikely to appreciate the gesture. If she wanted to keep it to herself, she had every right.

“I'm just saying.” Patty said after a moment of terse silence. 

Abby pressed her lips together. It was hard to resist. “If she doesn't say anything more before she leaves. Then I suppose it's not going to hurt, to know what she's up to. Just to make sure she's not in any kind of trouble.”

Erin looked up at Abby again, who just kind of half shrugged at her best friend. “Ok, that seems fair. I hope she knows she can trust us though.”

“She knows we're here if she needs to talk, Erin. Try not to stress to hard about it, she doesn't seem to be to worked up.” Abby patted the skinnier woman on the shoulder

The de-facto team leader of the ghostbusters took a drink of her own coffee, humming in agreement with Abs' then wincing at the cold bitterness of the coffee. Abby laughed, extending a the hand that was on her shoulder.

“Here, I'll warm it up for you. Just don't get use to it.” Erin handed off her mug, to her chortling colleague. 

 

Meanwhile Holtzmann had landed in her lab and grabbed her silver duffle bag. Then she'd re-thought the need for the giant bag and instead grabbed the smaller one, that was also silver. Because it was made out of duct tape, something she threw together one sleepless night after being tired of lugging around the massive one.  
She began packing things up, having a laundry basket down here, because she did practically live here. She mooched off the washer and dryer they kept around to clean their jumpsuits when slime happened. She stopped by the goggles hung on the wall and waffled slightly. They were what she had of Henry, but in reality they ought to be Chars...She should at least offer in her attempt to make peace with the probably pissed teenager. She grabbed them off the wall and loitered around some more. 

After a couple of seconds of debate, she stuck a couple of ghost 'nades into her duffle. Before picking up her pistols and jamming Wynonna and Naomi in as well. She also picked up a couple of miniaturized ghost claws, smaller versions of the big bad bear trap looking thing that sent ghosts to Michigan. At least she thought it was Michigan, but the lack of complaint letter's from Michigan might say other wise. It might just be that they didn't notice, given Detroit and all. She figured it would be like sending ghosts to New Jersey, be awhile before anyone noticed. Either way into the bag they went.

Satisfied she was all packed, she turned her music player back on and went back to work on the Ghost Lure. Even though she had joked about it before, she did hope the others would be fine without her. They probably would, none of her weapons nor anything in her lab was actually as unstable as she made it out to be. She just loved pulling their legs and making them panic about things they didn't quiet understand. Besides, so long as they didn't touch anything, or if they used the safety gear she actually had strewn about the place. They should be fine. Her little voice was utterly convinced they'd be fine without her, they didn't actually need her. If they really wanted to, they could figure all this out for themselves.

Holtz shook off the settling wet blanket depression before she got wrapped into it and went back to work. Erin came up several times through the day, once to serve her lunch and the rest to talk. Each time mentioning some combination of being great at listening, or being here if there was anything Jillian needed to say. The blond bit the inside of her cheek each time, mumbling her thanks, once through an Italian sub sandwich. She tried her best to convince Erin that she would be fine, heart beating faster at the brunette's look of honest concern. She tried to explain that it was just something she had to do and no she didn't want to talk about it. 

___________________

Mercifully, fifteen hours later she was away from her friends. Not that she wanted to be away from the, but all yesterday all of them had tried in their own ways to let her know they were there. As loved, as special and as cared for as that honestly made her feel. She was certain that there were some things they couldn't possibly understand or forgive her for. Holtz was pretty sure that probably being mostly responsible for the deaths of children was one of those things that her friends weren't just going to laugh off. 

Jillian handed her papers to a guard at the booth to the exit of Tooele Army Depot. Both her and Gorin had done governmental work before. So she'd reached out to her mentor and they had pulled favors to get her a lift from New York. She'd gotten to bring her motorcycle and didn't have security questioning her about the weapons in her bag. Win, win really. She adjusted the bag on her back, thinking about the weapons she has stuffed in there along with a PKE meter and some detection tools. What was she thinking?

Every so often, she'd checked up on Hurricane and over the years, reports drifted in about the old building and about haunting's. It was, admittedly one of the reasons she'd gone into Spectral research and joined up with Abby. Granted, Holtzmann didn't even think the old building was standing anymore, even if it had been abit outside of town. It had been a big building, taken up a large chunk of land. She was sure it had been torn down...There was that voice in her though, that said, maybe it was still standing. They'd never found those kids's bodies and ghosts were a definite, very real thing now. She had no idea what she planned to do, but she had a feeling it was doing to be like most of her other plans. Poorly thought out, reckless and maybe even exciting. 

It wasn't long before Holtz was cruising down the highway on her BMW touring bike. Motorcycles were another of her passions and this one was her personal bike. It had taken the other buster's ages to realize that Kevin had not in fact built the ecto-bike. Why they thought that, she never wanted to know. Maybe because she had waited to spring it on them.

Passing the welcome to Hurricane sign, she pulled off the way highway and turned down a set of side streets. Who named a town Hurricane anyway? Might as well have the town sign read 'natural disasters here!' She would go check into the hotel, but first...There was something she wanted to do. She was doing this, whole thing, whatever it was. Ripping a wound open, she guessed, or more like it felt like that. So she if she was doing that, she wasn't taking out one stitch at a time. Nope, might as well go for big chunks. 

If Jillian Holtzmann was a bundle of manic energy at the best of times, today she was thirty five pounds of destructive inattentive nervousness jammed into a ten pound case. She was like the nuclear materials she worked with on a daily basis, handle with care. Her fingerless gloved fingers drumming against the handle of her cycle. She didn't recognize much, not this far at the edge of town. But she still knew her way, the buildings could change all they wanted. The roads, she knew like the back of her hand. You never really forgot where you learned how to drive.

Holtz hung a left and pulled slowly down an old side street. The house loomed before, hung against the sky, it's dark outline like a wound against the bright blue background. She stared at it, only noticing that there was a car in the driveway after several thoughtful minutes. It was a small car, some indistinct silver color she really couldn't make out with her goggles on. Stick shift, a Toyota, a couple of dents and scrapes. She would have bet her left arm that it belonged to Charlotte, after the shaking realization that her niece was indeed now old enough to drive. Who else would be there? Suddenly, Holtzmann's resolve started to quake in it's boots and she wasn't so sure about this ripping off chunks of stitches at a time thing.


	3. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie finally comes into the picture and the Holtzmann family tragedy is more fleshed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to all of you, for the kudo's and comments! I'm going through a pretty rough time of it as of late. So it's really helped me want to continue writing this. As I've said, I have most of this fleshed out, I know where it needs to go, but I don't know when the next update as I will be out of town most of next week.

Charlotte Holtzmann stood in the living room to her old house, the key to the front door still dangling around her neck. She hadn't known why she expected the house to still be here, maybe because she had this perhaps idiotic belief that if her aunt had sold the place, then she would have at least had the curtsy to tell Charlie. She been three when they first moved in, all the memories blurring together in a child's understand of grief and loss. She hadn't understood where her mother went and had clung relentlessly to her father, wary of the suddenly painful world around her.

Her aunt had showed up some days later. Charlie couldn't remember the exact timeline and at the time she hadn't understood why. Just that her grandmother and grandfather had done very bad things to her Aunt Jillian so they weren't allowed to visit anymore and Auntie J would be staying with them. They'd connected in that way quickly, that was what Charlie remembered. Mutual pain and barely understood grief. Her aunt had been fun and energetic despite that and so fiercely protective. It had broken Charlotte's tiny heart when the 'incident' happened.

She remembered vaguely that she had been terrified of monsters under her bed and ghosts in her closet Her father had, in his patient, calm and loving way explained that those things weren't real. He had set about making sure she didn't have to sleep alone, building her friends and mechanical playmates. Her aunt's solution had been to burst in one night, with mocked up light guns and a big round cylinder and 'hunt' all the monsters and ghosts down. Kissing her on the head and tucking her in on the way out to dispose of the creatures somewhere they couldn't hurt her Sparky. Both had made her feel better, but her young heart had found more courage in the fact that her aunt had believed her. Instead of just sweeping away her fears with broad reassurances like the usual adult.

She cast a look around the living room. She had never noticed it before, but the house was so big, the couch and easy chairs strewn haphazardly around the living room, with the t.v. and coffee and table all to far apart from each other. Stretched to make the big space feel lived in. Charlie had never felt a lack of anything as a child, but it seemed somehow now that the sheer enormity of the house was some kind of quiet apology. The attempt of a man who had lost so much in his own life, to give his remaining family everything he could. 

She had expected, what with the Ghostbusters being a big thing and ghosts probably definitely actually being real, that someone would have come poking around. It was a small town, there was bound to be some bored and industrious teenagers besides her kicking about, ready to break into the 'Fazbear murder house' just for the hell of it. It not only seemed like no one had broken in, someone had obviously been taking care of the place. It wasn't overly decayed, certainly dust covered and disused but not falling apart with ten years of neglect.

The stairs stretched out and up just to her right and Charlotte decided that was as good a time as any to rip off that particular band-aid. She walked up slowly, reaching the landing she bit her lip, studiously avoiding looking down the hall that led to her father's and aunt's rooms. Instead pushing open the first door on the left, half expecting to see her 7 year old self there, sitting on the bed. Like she might turn to Charlie and ask 'Who are you?' Her eyes lit upon a pair of stuffed toys in an old white wicker rocker, now yellowed with age and sun. 

One was a purple rabbit, the first toy her father ever made for her. He had been named Theodore, he had a red bow tie, crooked ears and was about the size of then 3 year old her. He was simplistic, with a metal skeleton that had allowed him to wave and say 'I love you,' in her fathers gravely voice. Next to him was Zeddy, a smaller striped zebra that could trot around slowly and sung a soft lilting lullaby in her aunt's quavering singing voice. She took a couple of steps into the room, looking around. Everything was still there, Stanely as she'd named him for whatever childish reason. A white unicorn (he use to be a pony before her aunt got to him because unicorns were more awesome. Charlie had thought so to.)sat on a track, he a small saddle and young her could have ridden him around the room. 

His paint was chipped and his face had given way to some rust, but despite that she still thought he looked vaguely cheery. The young woman smiled and hit the button, causing the horse to go around his track, it squeaked and screeched, but he made it to his stopping point. She bent down next to the bed and patted his side.

“You could use a new coat of paint, Stanley.” She said to one no in particular. Briefly, she wondered about liberating any of her old friends from this time locked crypt. But as soon as the thought swam into her head, she knew it was wrong. Most of her old toy's needed this room to function and more over, she'd gone ten years without them because of her grandmother's refusal to pander to her 'childish needs.' No, whatever happened to the house from here on out, would just have to happen to them.

 

\-----------------------

Jillian Holtzmann stood in the drive way, having turned off the bike's motor and walked it into place. She had no idea, where in her walk down memory lane the kid was and she didn't want to startle her niece any more than she might have to. It was best if they just kind of approached this whole thing slowly and with more care than anyone believed Holtz was capable of. With that in mind, she decided to start her own tour of trauma in the old garage workshop. 

Taking a few quick strides to reach the back fence, she used a leatherman multi-tool she always carried to jimmy the rusted latch on the old heavy wooden gate. She gave it a push, wincing when the hinges creaked and groaned in protest. After a couple of attempts, Holtz managed a gap wide enough to slip through, looking over her old back yard with a frown. It wasn't a jungle, there were some weeds and tall patches, but it was clear the city had probably been handling the lawn care.

Over not far from the fence, to her right stood the free standing shed which was also a two car garage before they'd put up the fence. They'd converted it into a machine shop, a work space for the two of them, Henry and his animatronics...Her and her various projects. Animatronics, motors, idea's for weaponry. Simple and complex machines and electronics. Her interests hadn't turned to protons or nuclear materials until she had been in Boston with Dr Gorin. Even though physics had always held her interest. 

She started toward the structure, reaching for the door before pulling her hand back. Holtz bit her lip, shaking her head as she bounced from foot to foot. Just rip the band-aid off, she pushed the door open, half expecting to see Henry. Bent over his latest contraption, goggles pulled down, his face screwed up in concentration as he tinkered with whatever it was. He was always more of a perfectionist than her, had a better attention span and she would admit, at least to herself. He was probably a better inventor when it came down to it. Still, life was life and death was death and that meant that Henry wasn't in the workshop. She didn't know why, but it was a punch in the gut that he wasn't, a stiff feeling that knocked the wind out of her with a woof. 

The space was emptier than she remembered it being. Less cluttered and cramped, still there were machines and spare parts everywhere, half completed endo-skeletons, some with more of the frame work attached. The prototype of the prototype of the thing that became her proton pistols, resting on one of the work benches near the metal shaper. Holtzmann sucked in a breath, pulling her goggles back over her eyes, it just felt right to have them on in here. Who wanted to run face first into a spider web with unprotected eyes? It had nothing to do with the building salt sting in the corners of her eyes.

Unbidden the memory of the last time she had been in here came rushing back into her brain, triggered by the thoughts of spider webs and age. Of the old workshop sitting lonely and abandoned for ten years. She'd been arguing with Henry and it made her heart ache to think of it. She'd been reckless, impulsive and young. He had been right, but it was only with hindsight she could admit that. She'd started off her relationship with Rebecca Gorin, while Gorin was subbing for the physics teacher at the local college for a semester.

The older woman had seen everything in her potential, had believed in her in ways that no else even Henry ever really had. She'd been so swept up, convinced she'd leave for MIT the minute she was able, having graduated high school at 16. She was already attending the local college and she'd become convinced that her life shouldn't be spent in hicksville Utah. Just barely avoiding her crazy parents dragging her back into their abusive clutches week to week. Working at her brothers podunk pizza parlor, even if the animatronic attractions had been amazing. She'd never been as enraptured by the giant toys as he had and hadn't wanted to spend her adult life being the head of maintenance at a kiddie restaurant. A job, she'd only gotten by pure nepotism in the first place. 

He had argued with her, scolded her for her choices. Adamant that there was no way her sneaking around with a woman nearly 20 years her senior was every going to do anything but backfire horribly. She'd ruin Gorin's career and her own future, she had accused him in turn of not wanting her to have a future. Of wanting her to stay and help raise the daughter he couldn't handle on his own, run the business for him, do all the things he couldn't handle on his own. That he'd only saved her from their overly religious zealot parents to use her as free baby sitting and a paper work machine. 

She'd just so desperately wanted to be her own person, with her own accomplishments and achievements, that she was left looking back now in the wake of her mistake, wishing she could undo everything. Because it had cost her her family. Sure, she had one now, one that she fought hard for and pieced together out of other broken people like her and loved them. But they weren't Henry and they weren't Charlotte. Moping, she hated moping and she was doing so much of it lately. Holtzmann was tense, fidgety and anxious, all the feelings that she generally clamped down on. All the things she hid behind her mask of humor and an easy going smile. 

The jumble of things she generally refused to feel. Christ was this what it was like to be Erin? Constant bubbling nervous energy in the pit of your stomach? Good god, no wonder the woman had an anxiety disorder. She'd only been like this two days and she already felt like she'd bust an internal bolt if she didn't find a pressure release valve somewhere soon. This whole constant concern was not the happy go lucky engineer's style, she generally dealt with this shit through a combination of general denial and a Teflon personality. Nothing stuck, she wouldn't let it. It was a more haunting and impossible to shake thought than she would admit however, the thought that her last words to her brother were part of an argument.

Thinking of the other woman, made her, well think of the other woman. She had a sudden new appreciation for exactly how strong the redhead was. Not that she ever thought Gilbert was weak, but now she thought she understood a little glimpse what it must be like for the woman to face every day. She bit her lip, how she'd love to be the mousy physicists pressure release valve. She'd give up a non-vital organ, or even a limb or two for the privilege. The escapist thoughts only lasted a moment or two, before she was back in reality, standing in the old work shop, staring at nothing. 

She leaned over and picked up a piece of weirdly shaped metal off of one of the tables. She twisted it in her fingers, _spring locks_ , her mind thought after a few moments. Right, those contraptions, she had scars all up and down the hand and arm that was holding the thing from a suit made of them. Dangerous as fuck, which is exactly why she stuck the little gadget in her pocket. No use in leaving it laying around and no use in staying here moping either.

Another breath of air and she turned, there was nothing here for her anymore, maybe after this was all over she'd talk to Charlie. See if she wanted any of this stuff, or if she could salvage the tools and metals for her own lab. See if perhaps Henry's daughter wanted her childhood home? It wasn't to dilapidated and maybe it oughta stay in the family? She couldn't leave New York, didn't really want to, but Charlie had at least stayed in the state. Maybe, she'd want it or she'd tell Jillian that it was finally time to sell the damn place. It was about time to do something other than leave it all lying here in the dust and memories. That thought made her a bit more comfortable. Holtz was nothing if not a woman of action and having a plan to start, maybe even finish some healing was a reassuring thing. In a way she didn't have the words for.

\--------------------------

Charlotte grimaced, stepping over a large stain on the carpet in the living room, something about it made her vaguely uneasy, plucked at the strings of the tension all over her body. She'd finished up her exploration of her own room and the upstairs, most of her old toys had still worked. Which she figured was some kind of weird testament to her families engineering ability, it was the only thing they all really prided themselves on. 

Well her dad and aunt, she had no idea about her paternal grandparents. They had sent cards and letters, had called her other grandmother. But never bothered much contact, something about her mother's mother forbidding it. Just like she had later admitted to forbidding her Aunt. She also had no idea where her mother had run off to, after divorcing her father and abandoning them when Charlie was 3. Even her grandmother had very idea as to her daughter's whereabouts. Not that her granddaughter cared, her mother as far as Char was concerned was an old and closed wound.

She hadn't been able to bring herself to open the door to her father's room, or his study. But in her aunt's room she'd found an old multi-tool and a pair of perfectly intact leather finger-less gloves. She'd snagged both, because sitting here for ten years they wouldn't be missed. Besides, they could come in handy. She didn't know what for yet, but she'd find something, that she was sure of. Then she'd gone exploring the kitchen and the down stairs. Not much was left around the place, just some pots and pans and an odd end or two.

Charlie skipped back over the strange stain on the living floor and headed for the front door. She opened it with a quick yank, to find someone standing on the other side, half leaned in as if they were going to push the door open themselves. Just after the jump and the startled yip that ripped itself from Charlie's throat, she recognized the face on the other side of the door. 

More or less, her Aunt Jillian was the same, more haggard looking. Bigger darker circles beneath her eyes than Charlie remembered, she might even be a bit thinner? It was hard to tell, but she was the same basic height. Same yellow goggles, more or less the same messy hair, it might have been longer now, again hard to tell. She had a wide eye'd look, like she hadn't been expecting this meeting and that made two of them. In a very real and some what uncomfortable way, it was like looking into a mirror that showed the future. 

Char cleared her throat in an attempt to dispel the tension that had settled in. “You still dress like someone loaded you into a cannon and shot you through every clothing racket at the Goodwill.”

There was a moment when Jillian's eye's widened beneath her goggles, and her smile grew, no longer terse. She let out a bark of real laughter, hand coming up and waving aimlessly around. “That there, was a good one Kiddo. I'mma haveta remember that one.”

There had been immensely sudden shock at opening the door, or more or less feeling it give way beneath her hand and seeing Charlotte standing there. Like she'd stepped back in time, opened the door to find herself standing there, wondering who the hell was waking her up at such an ungodly normal person hour. It had thrown her, of course she expected the girl to be all grown up now. 

She just, didn't expect to see this woman, this grown and funny woman standing in front of her. Charlotte was the spitting image of Henry, after the mild shock, she could see her brother's eye's twinkling at her behind the mop of chin length uncontrolled hair that framed the woman's face, cascading around her eyes like a dirty blond water fall in wavy rivulets. 

She was still abit baby faced now that Jillian really looked, kind of thick cheeked despite being relatively skinny. She could see a runner or swimmers build, beneath the thin tank top though, which was good. Jillian was happy that her niece was physically active, that was a good thing. She decided lamely, for whatever reason.

She reached back and tugged the hood of the orange tank top over Charlie's face with a laugh. “This a hooded tank top? That's awesome! I'm definitely going to have to get me one of those.”

Charlie batted her hands away, giggling. “Your jacket has a hood already.”

Jillian put on a very face, frown turning dour.. “Blasphemy! You can never, ever have too many hoods.”

She continued with the sour look, until Charlie faltered, then she broke out into a huge Cheshire grin, gesturing at Charlie's pants. “The heavy metal goth pants that make you like you have girders for legs though...Those might need re-considering.”

Charlotte huffed, sticking her tongue out, for lack of any better reaction. If her aunt was going to be childish, than so be it. She could to. “Say's lady swallowed by her overalls!” 

Another bark of laughter, Jillian leaned forward, wheezing. She was excited, happy, feeling things she just couldn't process yet. It was great that they could fall into this easy camaraderie, even though in the back of her mind she knew she shouldn't trust it. She knew she shouldn't get to comfortable with it. As she straightened up, the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach settled in to roost. Her eyes fell over the dark and ugly stain on the living room floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will begin with a flash back. That will hopefully explain the dreaded floor stain, so just bare with me.


End file.
